


Truth and Beauty

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Closeted Character, Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-05
Updated: 2010-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Team Westen sets about rescuing a kidnapped computer programmer, Sam, inspired by the devotion of her partner, considers coming out to Michael and Fiona.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth and Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to wickedp for beta! Written for seiberwing for lgbtfest 2010.

"What time is it?"

He smiled crookedly over his shoulder and reached for the alarm clock. "Six."

A self-reproachful yawn. "God, what're we doing up at six in the morning?"

Sam stretched his legs. "I did give you a hell of a workout last night."

"Mm, yes you did," his lover stretched against the luxury of the sheets, grinning. "Well, Sammy, you always live to impress."

"You know it, baby." The sheets were kicked aside as Sam got up to stretch his limbs and search for a fresh pair of boxers.

"You're getting up already?" A pair of dark green eyes blinked up from a mound of covers.

"Mike and Fi have a surveillance detail lined up for us," he said, somewhat apologetically.

"It's all right. I know where you'd rather be." Warm arms wrapped around his midsection. "We've been getting awfully seriously lately, Sam…"

That tone of voice was terribly familiar to Sam. "Honey, I don't know if they're ready for you."

He was rewarded with the cool withdrawal of a warm hand. "You're ashamed of me."

Sam grabbed back the withdrawn hand. "No!"

"Then why haven't you introduced me to Michael and Fiona? Or Madeline, for that matter?" There was a frown. "You're not…"

"No, I am. Just…not officially."

A firm withdrawal, and a drawing of the sheets closer to the form he adored. "Don't you 'not officially' me! My last boyfriend was a 'not officially' and he turned out to have a girlfriend. That's NOT an experience I want to re-live, buddy."

Sam frowned. "This is new territory for me," he said. "I haven't had a long-term live-in for…" _Six months, since Veronica,_ his mind taunted him. "…A long time. I don't want to "

"If you aren't sure about me, than I'm not sure I want you haunting my bed."

Sam reached out again. "Hey, it's not like that…"

"Just go away, Sam."

Regret licked its way down Sam's spine as he turned away and started dressing.

 

***

He was in a nasty mood by the time he arrived at Carlitos. Michael noticed that and immediately ordered him a double-strength Bloody Mary while introducing their client.

Mary Lambert was a stylish-looking woman of forty-five, wearing a cream-colored blouse and jeans. Her eyes were rimmed with pale purple rings and Sam smelled tobacco on her skin as he leaned over to shake her hand.

"I own a tech firm in Orlando," she explained nervously. "We make microprocessors for government computers. My partner and I have been working on a new system that's going to be available exclusively to Pentagon contractors. Brandi told me she needed to stay late one night to finish working on the mainframe structure when she was kidnapped outside our offices."

Michael, for once, was the one handing Sam a sheaf of document. "These are pictures from the surveillance cameras posted outside their building." Sam looked over the documents. It looked like a routine kidnapping – the guy even had a stereotypical black ninja ski mask on.

"Someone dropped these pictures at her house," Michael said, showing Sam a series of Polaroids, shots of Brandi looking vulnerable, terrified, her clothing askew and a thin line of blood dripping down her chin. He shot Michael a concerned look; they obviously weren't above torturing women to get information.

What Sam immediately noticed was the timestamps on the back of the pictures. "Mike, they were taken last night," he said, showing Michael the digital read-out on the other side of the copies. "They were made at the Photomat in Jupiter."

"Do you think they're foolish enough to be that sloppy?" Fiona balked.

"Not unless they want to be caught," Michael frowned.

"That might be exactly what they're aiming for," Sam declared. "We've gotta work fast."

After they had bid goodbye to Mary, Sam immediately turned to Michael and asked what the plan was.

"First we have to find the Photomat and dig through their records and try to match their records to what Mary gave us. We should be able to trace them back to some sort of drop off point from there."

"Think we'll be done with this by ten? I owe Ms. Reynolds a make-up date," Sam declared.

"You've upset her?" Fiona smirked over the lip of her bloody Mary. "How shocking."

Sam glared over his beer glass at Fi, refusing to dignify her response with a remark of his own.

***

It was an easily-enough reached half-truth. Fiona made a perfectly believable Photomat employee, and with Sam watching the door she managed to find the right records. Quick analysis of the forms they'd filled out led to an abandoned flop house near the Coconut Grove district.

Sam's guy who knew a guy knew there was a ring of hackers who met in the parking lot every Friday for wireless gaming sessions. They all immediately knew who the patsy would have to be in this situation.

"Your turn, Sam," Fiona declared, perching herself on the kitchen counter, eating a cup of yogurt.

Sam smirked. "I brought the pointdexter frames with me, just in case." He flopped down on the kitchen chair. "Mike busy hardwiring a fresh bundle of explosives?"

Fiona nodded. "He won't let me join in on the fun."

"You don't know how to softwire a dynamite pack to the inside of a frozen yogurt cup," Michael said, his head bowed over the desk.

"I've done that before!"

"And you blew up a storefront," Michael pointed out.

Fiona made "If you don't want to make things exciting, Michael, you shouldn't ask me out on these little trips." She suddenly noticed that Sam's expression had gone distant. "Did Ms. Reynolds revoke your gas card?" she asked.

"This is serious, Fi," Sam explained. "She told me to leave this morning. I think I broke her heart."

"Really, Sam?" Michael sounded half-interested, far too used to Sam's romantic exploits by now.

"I'm serious about her," he said. A part of him was appalled by how easily he lied. But he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"I'm sure she'll take you back," Fiona remarked. "After being with you, what man would want her?"

Sam knocked back his chair, stalking over to Fi. "Any man would be glad to have her. She's so wonderful to me, and I don't deserver her!"

Fiona glared up at him. "Sam, don't do anything you'll regret when you're completely sober. If you ever are."

Sam clenched his fist and felt a wave of nausea lick at him when he realized how close he'd come to striking Fi.

"Kids," Michael said, firmly, just one syllable to stop them.

Sam backed down. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Would you like some advice?" Fiona asked, clearly not offended.

"What?"

"You need to show her that she's the most important person in the world to you. Give her some flowers, wear a tie…and SHAVE for once."

"Could we get back to the case?" Michael pled.

That's exactly what they did – several hours later, Sam found himself pretending to be a veteran gamer in search of a little intel from the right person. He fell in with the kid they'd seen lurking around the drop-off point a few weeks before; to impress them, Sam kicked a little ass at Halo (actually, Barry did, standing in for Sam via a remote hookup; he'd taught Sam the correct keystrokes to create the correct illusion of playing the game himself). Properly dazzling them, Sam found himself invited to their Friday night meeting.

Barry vowed to teach him how to play WOW while they huddled together in the back of the car. But Sam had something more important on his mind, his plans for the evening.

***   
Shaving and wearing the suit had apparently been wise moves after all. The wine and escargots he had arrived with were consumed with greedy joy. They sat down together to watch the Pistons game and he felt a subtle, gentle touch to his inner thigh, one that all but begged for closer contact.

His phone rang just before things got interesting; it was Barry, who wanted to arrange for a training session with Sam. He waited for his lover to clear out of the room before discussing business.

"Right…I'll meet you at Mike's…How're things with Ms. Reynolds?" He tried to whisper the name, but the door to the kitchen had opened, and the figure stood motionless in the doorway. "…I'll get back to you on that. Later, Barry." He squirmed under the probing gaze of his lover. "What's wrong?"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing, baby, nothing."

"You called me Ms. Reynolds in front of Barry!"

Sam winced at the hurt, accusatory tone his lover used. "Tom, let me explain…"

The green-eyed man glared at him. "You don't have to 'explain' anything to me; I may be younger than you but I've been around. You're still in the damn closet."

Sam winced. "You're not military, kid. You don't know how hard it is to come out to someone who's still in the thick of it."

"If Michael stops your friendship because you're bi, then he isn't the sort of friend to die for." Tom knew Sam far too well; he melted under his gaze like an ice cube in a toaster oven. "This is your hang-up, Sam, own it."

"Oh, don't use that psychobabble crap on me," Sam demanded.

"There's something else going on then, isn't there?" Tom said. "I thought you trusted me. I even thought you loved me…"

"But I…"

"Get your things and go home, Sam. This isn't where you belong."

Sam glared at him. "I belong with you."

"Prove it."

Sam vowed that he'd do so.

***

"You're not doing anything," Mary accused them when they met for a debriefing at Carlitos three weeks and four meetings later.

"Surveillance takes awhile to complete successfully," Michael said. "We think we know who has her, but Sam has to finish penetrating their gang." Michael showed them the 'innocent' pictures Sam had taken with them at their last D&amp;D party. He pointed to two boys in the center, one of whom had an arm wrapped around Sam. "We think that these two are holding Brandi hostage in hopes of selling what she knows to someone further up in trade for a very rare video game. Tonight, Sam's going to follow the older one to his house. According to the house plans, they have a cold storage basement, "

"They put me through this agony just for that?" Mary's head slumped against the table.

"There are people out there who're evil," Sam said, by way of explanation. "Our job is to balance it all out and keep gals like you safe."

"They're going to kill her," she whispered, horrified.

"We won't let that happen," Michael said, offering the woman the only comfort he could.

"How do you know? You're not Superman!" she snapped.

Sam reached out to comfort her. "She must be important to your organization." But then Sam took in her. Fi and Michael were staring at each other, and their look tipped him off to the fact that he was the only one who had no clue about Brandi and Mary's relationship. Maybe he really was too stubborn to recognize true love when he saw it.

"She's the only reason I keep going," Mary said. "The love of my life. You need to get her back for me. Please, please get her back for me."

Sam didn't need to look at Mike and Fi; he knew they both felt the devotion he did.

***

It was a miracle that he had found Brandi, but there she was, stuck in the basement, tied with double-lengths of bungee chord to a metal folding chair. While Fi distracted the boys by pretending to be a stripper he had hired, Sam freed Brandi and traded the motherboard she'd been carrying on her for a mockup Michael had made. There were cups lined with C4 in the trashcans outside She had scraped herself from head to knee trying to free herself – Sam paid tribute to their devotion by severing her bonds as quickly as possible

"Mary sent you," Brandi enthused, not even asking a question. "I knew she'd rescue me."

Sam gave her a half-smile. "We're not rescued yet," he said. "There's a way out the back, but I'm gonna have to boost you up," he pointed to the street level window. "There's a guy named Mike in the bushes outside – take cover behind him 'til he gives you the all clear."

She nodded, and, with some effort, he boosted her toward the unlocked window. She scrambled up and out.

Sam made it topside just as Fi had stripped herself down to her bra. "Hey guys, do you want some ice?" he asked, to a chorus of chortles. That was Michael's signal to detonate the bombs out in the trash outside – that he did, frightening the kids to death.

He had managed to plant enough paranoia in the brains of the kids to make them seriously wonder if they were being threatened by the terrorists they were hoping to assist; suddenly the deal was off. Sam apologized profusely, offering the 'shaken' Fiona home.

She reamed him out for being late while they were in the van, but Brandi was glowing. The kids who had kept Brandi captive would get theirs. Michael had planted enough distrust and disinformation with the criminals they'd planned to sell the device to; it would result in bloody death by dawn.

Sam's reward was seeing Brandi and Mary kiss under a streetlight as the Miami moon rose. He notice Michael and Fi watching them, both subtly smiling.

"You don't care that they're gay?" Sam asked, his voice surprisingly tentative.

Michael frowned at him. "Love is love," he said.

Sam felt like a fool. "Let's go get some dinner; drinks are on me."

"Well, this is a celebration," Fiona noted. "What's the occasion?"

"Nothing yet." He turned on his cell phone and started dialing Tom's number.

***

The celebration at Carlitos was in full swing when Tom strolled in. "You'd better have a good reason for pulling me away from that Sixers/Celtics game, Sam!" he went silent at the sight of Michael, Fi and Sam sitting together at a table.

Sam stood up. "Tom, this is Michael Westen, the guy who saved my life. And that's Fiona Glenanne, the girl whose life I saved. Guys, this is Tom Reynolds. My boyfriend."

"This doesn't make up for what you did," Tom hissed, a frozen smile on his face. Fi and Michael were too busy exchanging confused glances to notice.

"Reynolds. MR Reynolds?" Michael wondered.

"Yeah – long story." Sam said, holding out a chair. "Let's just say I have trust issues."

"YOU have trust issues?" Tom hissed.

"You're going to take it out on me, aren't you?"

"Maybe, later." He smiled. "So you're Fiona. And you're Michael."

Michael gave Sam one of his best pained I-have-no-idea-what-to-do-this-is-awkward smiles. "Sam, you've got some talking to do..."

"I was afraid I'd lose you guys, like I lost my family when I came out." Everyone grew silent, and Tom reached out to squeeze his hand.

Sam lurched to his feet. "Lemme propose a toast: to Brandi and Mary, who helped me realize that it's better to be yourself than living with a lie." He took Tom's hand. "And to Tom, who's my home."

With that, he reached over and kissed Tom on the mouth, and in public for the first time. It took Tom's resistance awhile to melt away, but when it did he lounged limply in Sam's arms.

When he broke the kiss, Michael and Fi were smiling at them.


End file.
